


the wizard of brooklyn

by junkyard_parade



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Career Ending Injuries, Coming Out, Dumb Hockey Boys, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Roller Coaster, Eventual Smut, Gay Panic, Hockey, Hockey Fights, How Do I Tag, Hurt, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Pining, Post-Concussion Syndrome, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:20:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29148090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkyard_parade/pseuds/junkyard_parade
Summary: "Did it hurt when you had to leave?" Lou whispered, even though they were alone in the arena.The other man nodded and huffed a laugh, but it didn't match the tired look in his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, it hurt. I wish I'd just said it at the time, y'know. Said it hurt."For the life of him, Lou couldn't think of a single word to reply with.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	the wizard of brooklyn

**Author's Note:**

> hi there!! this is something I've had swirling around in my brain for years, and I've finally started in on writing it for real.
> 
> please be mindful that this story is going to deal with topics like mental health, homophobia, sex, and violence - if you're not ok to read about any of those topics, I'll be putting warnings in the start of each chapter so you can skip if need be. take care of yourself!
> 
> chapter warnings: mentions of injury
> 
> and with that, enjoy. :)

The sky is a dreary, solid grey, broken only by the jagged skyline of Brooklyn.

There's a boy, much too young to be out on the streets alone on such a cold day, waving a newspaper that says _ **"ROYAL'S REIGN ENDS"**_ in big black letters on the front page.

Various other headlines are stacked on a wide cart he has leaning against his hip. There are only a few copies of each left.

The boy shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His face stings from the wind chill and his arm aches from waving the papers, but so far it's been worth it, he reminds himself, feeling the coins shift and jingle in his jeans pocket.

He just needs to get rid of these last few before he can head home for the night.

Luckily, with the amount of attention Cliffy Royston's been getting lately, it shouldn't be too hard.

_____________

"And all you had to do was show up, zero hassle," Terry finally finished. I didn't respond. Or, if I did, I didn't hear myself speak.

My skin felt raw and prickly, and I was sweating despite the cold wind whipping against my face. My skull pounded.

_Shit._

My brother opened the car door for me, and my cold lips managed a thank-you-Terry that made my throat burn.

_**BROOKLYN BUCKS FANS TAKE TO THE STREETS!** _

_**BROOKLYN BUCKS FANS TAKE TO THE STREETS!** _

_**BROOKLYN BUCKS FANS TAKE TO THE STREETS!** _

Terry drove me through Brooklyn, chattering incessantly about various things I was already aware of. The fact that Coach called again, that my trainer wanted to see me as soon as possible, that some of the boys came round to see me while I was out... all that shit. I couldn't take it. God, I couldn't listen to idle chatter.

"You know how people say stuff about, like... that things move in slow motion and you see your life flash before your eyes or whatever?" I blurted out. "It's not really like that. It all happens at once."

**_ROYSTON INJURED; Out Indefinitely. ROYSTON INJURED; Out Indefinitely. ROYSTON INJURED; Out Indefinitely._ **

A muscle in Terry's jaw clenches momentarily, and it's obvious that he expected me to stay silent and listen to him, like always. He wasn't expecting me to have my own opinion.

See, Terry's a financial advisor. He's older, he always got good grades, he's the smart one.

Listen. I wouldn't give up playing hockey for the world, but sometimes there's something that just gnaws at the back of my mind, telling me I only do this because I'm not good enough for anything else. Anything that requires a lot of deep thought and paperwork and shit. It tells me I'm only here cuz I'm dumb enough to throw myself around on frozen water.

At least, I think I've worried about that. My head pounds just trying to figure out if I made it up just now or not.

**_'Royal' Forced To Hang Up Skates?_ **

**_'Royal' Forced To Hang Up Skates?_ **

**_'Royal' Forced To Hang Up Skates?_ **

Sure, Terry doesn't get recognized in public. People don't have reading cards with his name on them. Kids don't look up to him the same way they do with me. But he's respected. His point of view is listened to, always. He's seen as wise and responsible.

Part of me wishes I had a job like that, or was a person like that.

Where my brain is valued a little more and I can use it better.

Oh well. Too late for that now, I guess.

Terry still hasn't responded to what I said, but at least that means he finally shut up. My eyes burn a little, and I blink rapidly, trying to make them stop watering.

It's not the pain I can't deal with. My pain threshold is as high as anyone's - it has to be, given my lifestyle and line of work. I once had my lip stitched up right on the bench after taking a puck to the face, which is no picnic even without getting stitches after. I've had broken fingers, cracked ribs, fucked up joints, fractured bones, various muscle pulls and all sorts of other little stuff. Hell, I've broken my nose too many times to keep track of.

I don't even remember how all those nose breaks happened, honestly. I can only recall about half of my injuries clearly. I always got through them okay, though. I had to, y'know? 

Thing is, skin grows back. Muscles can be rebuilt, and bones mend pretty quick, all things considered… but brains just don't really do that stuff.

I've always worried a little that my brain's broken or something. But if it wasn't then, it sure is now - and it hurts a hell of a lot more.

**_Cliffy Royston Suffers Concussion, Legendary Career Comes To A Close._ **

I lean my head against the cold window, watching my breath fog up the glass, and my eyelids slide right shut as if I'd been waiting to sleep for years.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! next chapter coming soon :)


End file.
